


It's dirty, isn't it?

by totallyOOC



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28784028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyOOC/pseuds/totallyOOC
Summary: "I really gotta go Charlie.""I KNOW man that's what I'm saying!"There's pee in here. Proceed with caution
Relationships: Charlie Kelly/Mac McDonald
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	It's dirty, isn't it?

**Author's Note:**

> Listen,-

"OK, this?! This is not Charlie Work."  
  
"What is it then? It's dirty right?"  
  
"I don't know WHAT it is, but it's nothing you should be doing in the first place!"  
  
"Why not?! Dennis lets me."  
  
Mac furrows his brows, standing in the small apartment of his best friend, who's kneeling on the ground in front of him amongst an assortment of old magazines, dropped popcorn and candy wrappers. He's looking up at Mac expectantly, holding a coffee can that's about a quarter full with piss.  
He blinks up at him, innocently cocking his head to the side.  
As if he doesn't understand.  
  
Mac grumbles under his breath.  
  
"Dennis shouldn't 'let you' either dude!"  
  
Charlie shrugs, looking around the room. Settling on watching the sunlight fall through his yellowed curtains.  
  
"It's not that big of a deal, dude."  
  
He scratches at the stubble under his chin, eyes wandering back up to Macs stern expression. Staring down at the shorter man shuffling on the dirty carpet in his sweatpants and oversized shirt. Macs thighs clench and he shifts where he stands. Fidgeting with his hands at his sides.  
  
"I really gotta go Charlie."  
  
"I KNOW man that's what I'm saying!" Charlie nods, looking between them with urgency.  
  
Mac inhales deeply, shutting his eyes for a second.  
Why the fuck was this happening. They were just hanging out, huffing some glue and talking about nothing. But when Mac got up to go piss, Charlie stopped him. Something about the bathroom down the hall being broken again, to which Mac retorted that he'd just do it out in the alley, or on the sidewalk honestly, not like anybody living in this area would care. And Charlie got huffy, saying how the cats would go crazy if he'd mark their territory. As if Mac was afraid of a couple alley cats. Psh!  
So when he finally asked for one of the cans he KNOWS Charlie and Frank use to pee in, Charlie gave him a condition, claiming it as Charlie Work.  
He wanted to be used as a urinal.  
  
Mac cringes.  
And that's where they are now, Charlie adamant about being pissed on, Macs bashfulness about pissing on his best friend fighting against the need to relieve himself.  
  
Mac just stands there, in the middle of the room. He could've left. Charlie thinks. If he wanted to he would've left by now. The door is unlocked and he's not much of an obstacle. He's just kneeling on the floor after all. He would get up, put the can aside, and sit back down on the couch. Without Mac though. And that wouldn't be fun.  
He raises an eyebrow at the man standing in his room, trying to discreetly wiggle away the pressure in his abdomen.  
  
"Are you just gonna stand there until you pee your pants dude?"  
  
There's an edge to his voice, a challenge. So he gives a crooked smile when his friend finally gives in, dropping his track pants down to his ankles and kicking them off somewhere behind him. They land under the coffee table with more stale popcorn. Charlie beams when he sees Mac has been going commando the whole day, making this all the better since he didn't need to worry about any wet underwear.  
  
"So, uh.." Macs hand twitches at his crotch, unsure.  
  
Charlie shuffles closer to him, lifting the coffee can in front of his chest, giving him an encouraging nod. Go ahead.  
He sighs, swallows. Feeling his heartbeat pounding in his fingers as he grabs hold of his dick as he would any other time. Mac closes his eyes, trying to pretend he's anywhere else. His bathroom at home, the restroom at the bar, standing by the side of a sleazy nightclub. It takes him a couple good, deep breaths to relax. Charlie's being especially quiet and careful, aware of the delicacy of the situation, just sitting up a little straighter and opening his mouth in preparation. Eventually Mac manages to get to a point where he can let go, and he groans at the sweet relief on his poor bladder. Charlie catches the stream expertly with his mouth, reveling in the heat splashing on his tongue before going down his throat or trickling down the sides of his mouth and into the can.  
He puts a hand on Macs leg, giving him a soft squeeze. Telling him to hold on. The stream slows to a trickle and Mac sputters above him.  
Seeing Charlie with his mouth obscenely wide, face flushed and drenched down to his chest catches him off guard.  
  
"You good?"  
  
He reaches a hand down, stroking through Charlies hair. Who leans into the touch with a low whine.  
Yeah, he's good. Doing fantastic. Swallowing the last remnants of Macs piss in his mouth, he dares another favor.  
  
"Could you, uh, can you keep your hand in my hair? Please?"  
  
Mac swears he's dead. He swears that he's either in heaven, with Charlie kneeling in front of him not unlike an angel, drinking his piss like it's ambrosia, or he's in a fucked up circle of hell with this whole situation serving as some sort of divine punishment the purpose of which Mac has to figure out himself.  
  
He risks it.  
  
Tangling his fingers further into Charlies hair. Getting a content hum from him.  
  
"Can I-, can I also get closer maybe?"  
  
Charlie grabs the metaphorical pinky he's given and goes straight for the whole arm. He doesn't have anything to lose really, this is already more than he'd hoped for. And it gets unbelievably better when Mac nods at him, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat. Not making eye contact as Charlie shuffles up so his lips are almost touching the tip of Macs soft dick.  
  
"OK, you can keep going."  
  
Satisfied with his new position, Charlie opens his mouth back up, waiting for Mac to get going again.  
Mac swears softly under his breath because fuck, he already had his eyes closed when Charlie did that just a minute ago and he wishes he hadn't. Wishes he'd seen the patient eyes and slick lips. Waiting for him.  
God, yeah this is definitely some form of torture. It doesn't take long for Mac to pick up the mid-piss momentum, this time risking a peek from under his eyelashes. Watching Charlies mouth so so close to his dick that it's impossible for him to miss. Feeling the heat radiating off his plump lips. Drops running down his chin and into the metal can he's clutching, mixing with the other urine. And then he swallows, tongue darting out to lick his lips, brushing up against the slit of Macs cock.  
  
Shit. He tightens his grip on Charlies hair, pulling him in gently almost on instinct, hoping that he didn't misread the signs. But Charlie obeys readily, taking the tip of Macs dick between his lips, sucking lightly, all the while looking up at him with those big eyes. The stream halts for a moment as he makes contact with the soft insides of Charlies mouth, overwhelming him.  
When Mac lets go again, when the stream goes directly down Charlies throat, he sees Charlies eyes roll up and his eyelashes flutter, feels the vibration as he moans around him shamelessly.  
  
He gets it.  
He gets why Charlie asked him to do this. He's clearly having the time of his life.  
The comment he made earlier about Dennis creeps back into his mind, wondering when and how he approached the other man. Did Dennis hesitate? Did Charlie initiate it then too? Did he lock eyes with him, begging in the same manner he's doing now?  
Jealousy sinks itself into Macs chest. Taking his other hand off his dick, now secured in Charlies mouth anyway, using it to hold on tighter, cupping the side of his face. Thumb stroking gently over the rough stubble. Reminding him who he's with. Charlie takes him in deeper, the hand he was using to prop himself up against Macs thigh with moving higher until he's fondling his balls. He can feel Macs hands card through his hair, hears the low, guttural groan, and swallows around the comforting weight of Macs dick.  
  
He's done.  
  
Charlie's swallowed down most of it greedily, the coffee tin not much fuller than when they started, and Mac relaxes his shoulders, feeling much lighter. However with the unpleasant feeling of having to hold off out of the way, another type of urgent pressure settles in his lower body when Charlie keeps sucking on his dick. Determined to drain every last drop from his cock, cleaning it thoroughly with his tongue. Mac bites his cheek, can't help himself tightening his grip and lightly dragging his nails across Charlies scalp. Eliciting a moan and a few enthusiastic licks. Has he been thinking about this? Mac feels lightheaded, his dick fully erect in his best friends mouth. His dark beard still damp from before, eyes shut in a blissful expression. Bobbing his head up and down like he's starving for Mac- who's coming apart completely over the sheer want in Charlies behavior. Swirling his tongue around Macs sensitive head, pressing underneath to get a good angle on the ridge and sink down fully on the shaft, his nose brushing against soft hair. Above him, Mac stutters out a moan, thrusting deeper into Charlies throat, feeling it constrict around him as he chokes for a second, tearful eyes glancing up at Mac with a plea.  
  
Charlie feels like he's floating, only being tethered down to earth by Mac.  
His head firmly held in place by those big strong hands that are gently rubbing circles into his skull and messing up his hair as Macs hips get a slow start driving his cock into the back of Charlies throat. Using him for his own pleasure and building up a steady pace. Mac bottoms out on every thrust before pulling almost all the way out and going back in. Charlie can taste the precome coating his mouth and he carefully sets the piss can down on the ground, holding onto Macs hips with both hands.  
  
"Oh fuck- Charlie that's-" He didn't want to talk, wanted to get the whole thing over and done with anyways, but he slips at the way Charlie knows exactly when to let his jaw go slack and where to apply pressure with his tongue, getting Mac close. The corners of Charlies mouth twitch at the breathy moans almost drowning out Macs own voice. He slides a hand down carefully, grabbing a handful of ass, hoping that he won't mind and back off in disgust, leaving him alone cowering in his dirty apartment. A whine escapes his lips as Mac thrusts in again.  
  
Charlie shifts his hips on the backs of his calves, trying to get some friction against the grey sweatpants, and Mac nearly misses the minuscule movement, hissing when he realizes that the man whose face he's mercilessly fucking into is just as hard as he is.  
  
Pulling Charlie off his cock by his hair with a wet pop, Mac tries collecting himself, "Fuck, I'm gonna come if we keep going Char-" "Well, do it."  
Macs eyes dart down to where he's holding the others head. Pupils blown up and dark under heavy eyelids, lashes wet from trying to keep his gag reflex under control. Spit smeared around his chin, trickling down to join the other stains on the carpet.  
  
"I want you to come down my throat, Mac."  
  
"Jesus Christ."  
  
Charlies voice is oddly deep and raspy from the rough treatment, going straight to the pit forming in Macs stomach where the feelings he's been ignoring for years are threatening to break to the surface. Shoving his dick back through the slick red lips, parting readily, he puts his focus on the heat enveloping him instantly, the brown hair beneath his fingers, the blurry freckles on flushed cheeks. Mac picks up the pace, feeling himself getting close. Charlie relaxes his jaw, enduring the harsh treatment and trying to hold onto Mac to keep himself steady as his torso is manhandled, digging his fingers into the others thighs and hips in his efforts, leaving red marks.  
His vision is getting hazy, having no opportunity to breathe he almost goes completely limp under Macs grip, letting out a weak moan that the other echoes in a much louder fashion. Almost screaming while he holds Charlie down on his dick, throbbing halfway down his throat, coming inside him.  
  
Keeping him there for a little while, Mac eases his hold on Charlie. Smoothing over the messy hairstyle and just keeping his gaze on the lightly arched eyebrows, feeling the heavy breaths against his abdomen and the soft swallowing around his dick. Trying to keep the reality of what he's just done with his best friend -Charlie of all people- from setting in, he shuts his eyes for a second, still fussing with the hair beneath his hands.  
  
Charlie pulls off, repositioning his hands to hold Macs soft cock steady while he cleans him again with his tongue. Mac thinks that's something very catlike. Smirks at the comparison, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest. Lets his hands fall off Charlies head only when he's done completely, satisfied with his work, and sitting back on his heels.  
  
He moves to stand, holding onto the sofa to pull himself up.  
"Hey, hey wait!" Mac extends a hand to Charlie, halting him in his efforts. "Don't you..." he motions to the obvious tent in Charlies sweats. "Oh!" raising to his feet shakily, the other waves him off with a chuckle, "It's fine, you don't have to-" but Mac's already closed the distance between them, pressing their chests together and joining their lips for a messy kiss. Macs hands going to Charlies lower back, holding him close. Breaking away, Mac leans down to rest his face in the crook of Charlies neck.  
  
"Are you sure?" he grinds his thigh between Charlies legs, who sputters "Are YOU sure?!"  
Prompting Mac to give him a stern look. "Of course dude, we're friends this is... this is what friends are for, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
Charlie decides this is alright, if this is what he gets that's enough.  
It's more than he has to do, certainly, even though he can't shake the bitter feeling in his stomach.  
He tips his forehead against Macs collarbone, bringing his arms up to rest around the taller mans neck. This is alright. One of Macs hands glides under his pants and into his briefs. He gasps at the contact, hears Mac swallow hard at how wet his underwear is. He swirls a thumb across the head, smearing the precome and gathering it on his fingers. Charlie grabs onto Macs back, pulling the fabric of the muscle tee.  
Ignoring the unfamiliar angle, Mac gently jerks him off. Trying the same twists and strokes he would use and just feeling the hard flesh in his hand, feeling him throb and more precome bead at his head. Flicking his thumb across the slit repeatedly, paying close attention to the way Charlie tenses in his hold, puffing out little breaths through his nose, trying to hold back a moan. Mac nips at the skin under his ear. Tightening his grip and letting his other hand travel underneath Charlies shirt, laying it flat against the small of his back. He's sweating.  
  
Leaning into the embrace, Charlie hears his heart drum in his ears, hopes Mac can't hear it.   
Can't feel it through his chest. Hopes he can't hear the choked out breaths and gasps either.  
  
But who is he kidding, he can feel the man stare holes into the side of his skull. Of course he heard. But he didn't mind so far. That's good. Charlies hips twitch into Macs grasp. Wondering how far he'd go with this. How far he'd let him. In the name of friendship. Letting out a whimper and holding onto Macs back with all his strength, Charlie spills into Macs hand, who flinches in surprise, but works him through the orgasm carefully. His hand slowing down but still stroking until Charlies grip on his back turns painful and he's whining into the collar of his tee. He retreats his hand, wiping it on the back of Charlies shirt. He won't mind one more stain.  
  
They just stand there for a moment, holding each other and breathing in the same rhythm.  
Feeling their chests expand and deflate, listening to the others heartbeat.  
  
Charlie taps Macs shoulder.  
  
"Thanks man."  
  
"Don't worry about it."


End file.
